


Entertain Me

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set early April 1997; Still forced to rest his leg, he is bored and demands entertainment.





	Entertain Me

Still under orders to take things easy, he found himself in bed comparatively early. While it was pretty obvious that his body needed the rest, his mind was suffering from the lack of stimulation and activity.

He had read everything they had given him and was currently halfway through a novel. However, it couldn’t hold his attention, didn’t provide what his mind craved.

Closing the book, he looked to the other side of the bed where his wife was engrossed in her own pile of folders and files. Probably to ensure he actually followed his doctor’s orders, she had cut her day short and turned in early with him.

For a while, he simply observed her, watched her eyes fly over the pages behind her glasses, watched her frown and make notes – suggestions, changes, questions.

He loved watching her work. Her mind was one of her very attractive features. Seeing it in action was glorious to him. He knew that others disagreed, feared it, but that made it even more appealing to him.

The longer he looked at her, though, the less interested he became in her mind right now. Forced to lie flat on his back, there wasn’t much he could do, but sneaking a hand underneath the covers to stroke her hip was within the range of the possible.

At first, she didn’t react at all – didn’t shy away from his touch, but didn’t encourage it either. When he began to pull up her nightgown, however, she put a hand on his over the cover and turned to look at him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

He shrugged, giving her his most innocent look. “I’m bored.”

“That’s not what I asked, honey.”

“Still true.”

“Have you finished the book already?”

“No, and I won’t finish it tonight. It’s not holding my attention.”

“What would you like to do instead?”

He couldn’t have asked for a better question. “You.” He grinned.

She groaned, rolled her eyes. “You aren’t cleared for any strenuous activities, yet.”

“But I’m allowed to lie on my back and move my arms and head.”

She couldn’t refute that. “And just what am I going to use as an excuse tomorrow as to why I didn’t finish my homework?” She waved the small pile of paper still resting on her lap.

He sighed. He didn’t want to keep her from her work, didn’t want to act like a small, needy child, but he was boooored. “How about you get that done,” he pointed at the papers, “and then I get to do you?”

She studied him closely. “Let me guess: if I don’t agree, you’ll keep distracting me, and I won’t get anything done at all?”

He had the decency to look sheepish. 

Resignedly, she shook her head. “Okay, deal.”

He smiled broadly, like a child in the candy store. “Scoot over.” He pulled at her nightgown, indicating he wanted her closer.

She didn’t respond verbally. She knew his moods, knew that if she didn’t give in now, she might as well give up. So she snuggled against his side, using his shoulder as a pillow, making sure not to knock against his leg in the process. 

His arm was wrapped around her shoulder, effectively blocking its access to her lower body. But her body had many more entertaining features, some of which he could actually reach. Thus he began to trace her collarbone with a fingertip, at first following its line, then the motion morphed into circles that got wider and wider and moved a bit south until he reached the breast.

She let him be, just turned page after page, occasionally scribbling something on the margin or between the lines. He knew her body well enough, though, to read it like an open book, and could thus tell for sure that she wasn’t nearly as unaffected as she wanted him to believe.

Once he had completed the downward spiral, he paid special attention to the contour of her breast, followed its curve, circled the nipple which was protruding under the fabric. He would have preferred her to be naked, but there was a certain je ne sais quoi about the veiling. 

After turning the second to the last page, she stilled his hand for the second time that evening. “Stop, please.” Her tone clearly reflected arousal. “One more page.”

He leaned over to kiss her softly on the lips. “Okay,” he agreed. “But hurry.” He removed his hand from her chest and stretched out his arm.

She did indeed hurry, made it through the last page in record time. That much information actually got processed by her brain, though, was doubtful. She would probably read that page again in the morning. Done by definition, she dumped the papers along with her glasses on the ground on her side of the bed and turned to face him.

“All done for the day?” he asked, requesting the signal to ravish her.

“With the paperwork, yes. With you, no.” Her attempt at a glare failed spectacularly.

“Good.” He couldn’t help himself, had to smile. She was beautiful when she was all worked up and flustered.

With a hand on the base of her head, he pulled her to him to kiss her languidly and deeply. Now that his most favorite entertainment was finally available for the night, he wanted to savor it, to enjoy it to the fullest. As his lips caressed hers, his hands did the same to her back and scalp.

Touching her earlier hadn’t only turned her on, but him as well. As he stroked her back, he slowly but surely dragged up the nightgown until he could satisfy his need to touch her skin. She was his drug of choice. The more direct, the purer the contact, the better.

Reflexively, she reciprocated his touch, forgetting about his leg like he had until he hissed when he instinctively shifted closer to her.

She immediately pulled back and put some distance between them, but he would have none of it, pulled her close again.

“No, stay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, hon, and you’re clearly not up to any action, yet.”

“Yes, I am. You’ll just have to be a good girl and behave.”

“And just what do you have in mind?”

Grinning for victory was close, he pulled the pillow out from under his head and dropped it to the ground. “Strip and get up here.”

For a moment, she quietly looked at him, clearly considering the pros and cons of his suggestion.

He trailed a hand along the curve of her waist. “Please, let me make you feel good.” He really, really wanted her. Making her feel good made him feel good, distracted him from his pain in the best way possible. However, she had to agree, had to want it, him, too.

“Are you sure?” she eventually asked.

The look he sent her should have been answer enough, but he replied verbally nonetheless. “I’m very sure. I want you. Unless you’re not interested…”

She interrupted him with a passionate kiss that left no doubt about her interest.

Once she managed to tear herself away from his lips, she got out of the bed to take off her panties, then got back in, sitting down next to his shoulder, legs folded sideways under her, braced on one arm, facing him.

He seemed a bit disappointed at the amount of skin still covered.

“I thought you might like to do the honors.”

At that, his face lit up. “Come here.” He pointed at his chest.

Without hesitation, she straddled him just below the ribcage, looking down at him with love and hunger as he moved his hands up her thighs under the garment, pulling it up as he went. She assisted him by leaning forward and raising her arms.

The moment he bared her breasts, he latched on to a nipple, suckled lightly. She moaned, rubbed herself against him.

Not taking his mouth off her, he pulled the nightgown off completely and blindly threw it in the general direction of his pillow. Now free to roam her body, his hands touched every inch of her. Ever since he had first touched her in 1971, touching her was his favorite pastime – no matter when, where or the state of dress – and especially so when he could reach naked skin. Her small form called out to him, and he was unable – unwilling – to resist. He was addicted to her since 22 years now, and never wanted to be clean.

The many hours he had spent exploring her body, discovering and rediscovering its secrets time and again had taught him all its desires, the location of all its buttons and how to push them effectively. And every single one that responded to his fingers or was within reach of his lips got pushed now, although he avoided the most obvious spot.

Her body was the one instrument he could play better than the saxophone. The music, however, was for a one-person audience only – a truly private concert.

Not only the volume of her sounds of pleasure increased with time, the wetness between her thighs did, too. He could feel it on his stomach, confirmed it with a hand as well.

Her hands, in contrast, had found purchase on the head of the bed and stayed there – behaving just as instructed earlier.

Slowly, he began to urge her upwards, allowing his mouth to travel down her body until her legs framed his head. Spreading her labia with one hand, he let the tip of his tongue dance over her wetness, flickered it over her clitoris, but never concentrating on one spot for long.

Her hips bucked, seeking more stimulation than he was currently providing. He had her curse a few times before he decided to kindly take the hint and to – finally, if one asked her – apply more pressure to her clit with his tongue after only gracing it with his teeth, and occasionally sucking on it lightly for the longest time.

He wanted to draw it out for as long as possible, wanted her to lose all inhibitions before he pushed her over the edge for the first time. Tonight, he aimed for her complete and utter relaxation and exhaustion – and multiple orgasms.

He pushed a finger into the wetness, stroked her inner walls while keeping his mouth on her pleasure point.  
She had reached the level where she cursed and praised his name simultaneously. A clear sign he was on a good path to accomplishing his goal.

Adding a second finger, he flicked his tongue over her clitoris strong and fast, causing her to come hard. Slowing his motions, he let her ride the wave for a few moments before picking up the pace again. By now, he had stopped the teasing entirely, was gunning for as many orgasms as he could coax from her body.

She liked to say he set goals for himself and never gave up until he reached them. The governorship, the presidency, and most importantly her hand in marriage had been big goals of his life. Tonight’s goal might be smaller, but no less ambitious.

Her legs trembled as the second climax hit her. He steadied her with his arms, but also used them to hold her in place when she tried to lift herself up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“I can’t…” Her breathing was erratic, her mind nicely scrambled.

“Yes, you can, and you will,” he countered before using his mouth again for something other than talking.

Unrelenting, he teased her into a third orgasm, enjoying her moans and cries and panting. This time, he didn’t pause for long, though, continued to stimulate her while the aftershock was still rushing through her pathways. Thus the third orgasm easily flowed into a fourth that eventually blended with one more which he knew would be the last one. He could feel exhaustion taking over her body, noticed her getting sore, too tender for further stimulation to be pleasurable. And five was a decent a number.

Therefore, after a last tiny kiss to her vulva, he carefully guided her shaking form off him and onto her back next to him.

Panting, her heart beating fast, eyes closed, she just lay there for a few minutes, trying to calm down, limbs feelings too heavy to move. He, in turn, watched her, proud he was the cause for her state of deep satisfaction.

After a while, she turned her head and opened her eyes, looking directly at him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Thank you,” he replied. “Best entertainment I had all day.”

She laughed and rolled over to kiss him, not bothered by her drying juices still covering his face. “I love you.”

He responded in kind.

“Be right back,” she said and climbed out of the bed, her legs a bit unsteady. “Damn, you’re that good,” she muttered, making him laugh.

Staggering slightly, she made her way to the bathroom naked, returned with a damp cloth and gently wiped his face, kissing him long and lovingly once she was done.

Not bothering with another trip to the bathroom, she put the wash cloth on the nightstand before picking up his pillow and positioning it under his head again. Grabbing her clothes next, she eyed them, contemplating whether she wanted to put them on again or not. A night of feeling his skin against hers sounded heavenly, but years of living in the White House had taught her to expect the unexpected, and despite all the concessions and compromises she had learned to make, she drew the line at being seen naked. And there was the winning argument. With a sad sigh, she stepped into her panties and slipped the nightgown over her head.

Her husband looked as disappointed as she felt. His expression brightened, however, when she cuddled against his side, arm slung around his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Get better soon so I can repay the favor,” she said against his skin.

“You don’t…” She stopped his objection with a finger on his lips.

“I want to.” A yawn escaped her. “Sorry, you wore me out.”

Fighting with a yawn of his own, he smiled at her. “I wore us both out.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head. “Sweet dreams, love.”

“You, too.” She snuggled closer against him as he switched off the light on his nightstand.

With a smile, he listened to her breathing evening out. It took him a bit longer to shut off his mind and calm his body enough to follow her example, but eventually he, too, succumbed to the need for rest, grateful for the woman in his arms and her presence in his life.

The End.


End file.
